


You're the Bass to My Treble

by BlackRoses_77



Series: But What's a Poet Without a Muse? [1]
Category: South Park
Genre: Angst, Bad Parenting, Hallucinations, M/M, Paranoia, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Suicide Attempt, Tweek is my baby ok, creek - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-31
Updated: 2017-05-07
Packaged: 2018-07-28 09:23:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 10,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7634857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackRoses_77/pseuds/BlackRoses_77
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tweek Tweak had been attending private school for a couple of years, and he's finally returned to South Park High School for his final year of high school. He's not the same person he once was, and he expects to be forgotten and pushed aside - but sometimes, our expectations are not reality.<br/>Each chapter is named after a song, and I've snuck a lyric into the text!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Basket Case

Tweek Tweak had never been great at handling his emotions. He was a complete paranoid spaz when he was in elementary school, and while his jitters had calmed slightly, the turmoil in his mind hadn't. It was easier to hide than when he had been so spastic. Everyone just assumed he got better, less weird. That couldn't be farther from the truth.

In all honesty, Tweek had never been close to anyone. When he was younger, he had been in a small group with Craig, Clyde, and Token, but that soon disbanded once they hit middle school. Token and Clyde had become jerks - completely converting from friends to bullies. Craig had also found new friends, but he was the only one that ever at least checked up on Tweek at least once a month. He didn't seem to care much, though, so Tweek decided that he'd just tell him he was fine. It got him to leave him alone. The texts stopped Freshman year of high school, when Tweek's mother thought that private school may benefit the boy, but it had only made him worse. The bullying had been incredibly high, and Tweek had found himself in his room most nights in tears, reading the notes left in his locker. He was constantly being called faggot, constantly told the coffee stunted his growth. Tweek never said a word - what would he say? He _was_ short - he only stood at 5 feet 5 inches. He _was_ a "faggot" - he was gay, and his favorite color was even purple. He tried to tell someone, tried to tell his parents, but his mother denied it was bullying, "It's just because they're jealous Tweek," she'd say. His father? Well... 

His father had milked his son for every hour of work he possibly could. Once Tweek hit age 17, he was working in Tweak Bros. Coffee every day after school. He usually worked weekends, but he had begged until his father let him have the weekends off.

Tweek had changed in more ways than one. Having too much time to sit alone in his room had taken its toll on the small blond. His paranoia grew, his self-hatred blossomed. He rarely slept, always had a cup of coffee near him. It was a deadly cocktail - the caffeine mixing with the insomnia had the boy swearing to seeing things crawling on the walls - but he wasn't crazy (or at least that's what he'd convinced himself). 

He tried to shake off the feelings by watching alien documentaries. It would help him late at night to watch, and think that maybe, for once, _he wasn't alone_. He had a certain infatuation with space - specifically aliens. He just _knew_ they couldn't be alone in the universe.

When the documentaries didn't work, and Tweek couldn't calm his racing thoughts, he tried his meditation. When that failed, all he knew to do was hurt. 

When it was all too much, he'd pick up a blade. He'd slice the pale flesh on his arms, his legs, his shoulders, his thighs - anywhere he could hide. He wasn't sure why he did this. It was the only thing that took his mind off of his own flaws. What was another bandaid anyway? 

All of this thrown together made Tweek who he was. He was, altogether, a mess - a basket case, if you will. Sometimes, he swore he gave himself the creeps. 

After three years of the private school, Tweek was tired of it. He convinced his mother to transfer him to the public school - even if it was for only one year. 

So, when the first day of Senior year rolled in and he found himself staring at the door of South Park High School, he could already feel the panic start to claw at his throat. He wore a dark purple sweater and black jeans, his faded brown boots on his feet. His hair was still a mess of blond locks, sticking out every which way, but it wasn't as bad as it had been. He held a thermos in his hand of coffee, already half-drained. Under his hazel eyes, the dark bags had grown even darker in the past couple of days leading up to this day. He hadn't seen or heard from anyone here in three years. He was scared - he wanted to turn and run home, go back to that stupid private school. 

But instead, he took a deep breath and pushed open the door.


	2. Car Crash

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit shorter - hope everyone is enjoying so far! I'm trying to do a chapter per day or two!

To say that Tweek felt out of place was an understatement. He had come to school early on purpose, to figure out where all the classrooms were located. Trying to locate the locker written on his class schedule, he had looked up at the group of voices, all talking over one another.

It was Cartman and his group, and it shocked Tweek that they had remained friends through the years. It made him feel… weird. He felt a pang in his chest, looking at the ground. It was like everyone had moved on with their lives and Tweek was still here, in his own little bubble of nerves and jitters.

It felt _lonely_.

He sighed, returning to the task of trying to open the locker, which was a relatively easy task, but he felt the nagging feeling in the back of his mind – felt the negative voice in his mind come alive. _”Of course no one would remember you. Who’s talked to you in the past three years besides your parents?”_.  
He squeezed his eyes shut, sighing deeply. Just breathe, make it through the day. That plan usually worked. Taking a deep breath, he thought it might actually work, feeling the nerves calm in his chest. He could do this.

And for once, the day _almost_ went smoothly.

*~*~*

It was finally lunch, and Tweek found himself once again, alone. It was different, though – he was alone, but he hadn’t felt lonely like he had that morning. That is, until a familiar hat caught his eye.

Craig Tucker.

He felt a surge of hope spark in him as he saw the tall male approach the empty table that Tweek sat at. He hadn’t heard from him in so long, and he was probably coming over to talk about recent years, and what was happening, and Tweek reached up to say something to Craig, and –

He walked past right past him like he didn’t exist – like he was a ghost. It felt like a car crash, but he couldn’t look away from the boy as he walked away. He let his hand lower to the table, staring down at the empty coffee thermos. Of course Craig didn’t want to see him – the texts stopped three years ago.

He was lonely again. The bell rang, and he stood, snatching up his bag and making his way to the bathroom. He just wanted to be alone – on his own terms, and not on anyone else’s.


	3. Alive Again

As soon as Tweek closed the door to the bathroom, he felt the warm tears start to spill from his hazel eyes and felt whatever composure he had fall. He thought he was past this - thought he was past _Craig_ and he would probably would still be fine if Craig hadn't of just... Acted like he didn't exist.

What if he didn't exist anymore? He hadn't really been acknowledged that day. Panic gripped him icily, paranoia itching on back.

Tweek chose the biggest stall, fumbling with the lock on the door before tossing his bag down. He went to the sink in the stall, turning on the cold water and splashing his face, hoping to calm himself, but only feeling more numb. Not even pinching the skin of his face felt like anything. He _must_ be nonexistent!

Once he wiped the excess water away, he let his eyes meet his own reflection in the mirror. _"No wonder Craig wants nothing to do with you,"_ his mind echoed to him, _"you're a wreck. Pale, bags under the eyes... Absolutely hideous. Not to mention how much of a spaz you are."_

He was silent as he took in his own thoughts, the grip on the edge of the sink tightening. He wanted to argue against the snarl in his brain, but what would he say? It was all _true_.

He looked away from the reflected look of disgust, wiping angrily at the tears that were falling down still, but realized that it didn't matter much. 

He leaned against the wall and slid to the ground, pulling his knees to his chest and running his hands into his blond hair, gripping handfuls and yanking as a shaky sob clawed itself from his throat. He had thought it would _different_ this time! He thought that he could maybe reconnect, maybe break away from the school-coffee shop-home-repeat cycle. It was like he didn't even exist - he preferred being tormented by others day in and day out than being ignored. 

His eyes shot up as he heard the door open, silencing his sobs. He listened to the voice that was talking on a cellphone, pinpointing it as Eric Cartman. He grabbed his bag and stood, pushing the stall door open. 

At first, neither male gave a glance to each other, but a thought crossed Tweek's mind that made him pause. He argued with himself internally, before sliding his bag off of his shoulder and to the floor. 

If no one wanted to acknowledge him, he'd _force_ people to acknowledge him.

He hesitated a moment before balling his hand into a fist and smashed it into the jaw of the bigger brunet. While he couldn't hit hard, being as small as he was, the surprise was enough to knock the other back a bit and drop his phone. 

"What the fuck!" was all Tweek heard before Cartman turned and shoved him back into the wall. The back of his head connected with the wall hard, causing stars to dance in his vision. 

"Jesus Christ! I thought you were _gone_ you fucking _freak_!" he shook his head, leaving and muttering to himself as he rubbed the spot on his jaw. 

Tweek slid to the floor, his head pounding. The bathroom was deathly quiet as Tweek stared at the ceiling, the only sound being his breaths and his heart racing in his chest. 

Then, the tears returned, a grin spreading on his features. Laughter spilled out, echoing back to him and causing another stab of self-hatred; _"too feminine."_

But he didn't care. He _existed_ , he could still feel what pain felt like. 

He felt _alive_ again.


	4. You Took The Words Right Out Of My Mouth

Tweek missed most of the rest of the day. He had spent some time making himself look presentable before heading to his class. He kept his eyes glued to the ground, able to slip past the teacher without any question as to why he was late. 

About five minutes later, though, he was called to the principal. It was a boring session, being lectured by the principal about violence while Cartman played up his injury - tears and all. He didn't really pay attention, though. He was let off with a warning, since it was his first day at this school.

When it was time for the final class, Tweek was so tired he was sure he'd actually sleep tonight. He glanced at his schedule, then furrowed his brow. Band? He didn't sign up for band - he couldn't even play an instrument! He had definitely signed up for art. He contemplated turning and going back to the principal to work it out, but he figured he was already tagged as a troublemaker - he'd rather not make himself a huge burden straight away.

He found his way to the music room, already feeling anxiety creep into his system as grasped the ends of his sleeves and twisted them, eyes drifting to the floor. It was loud, there were way too many people, too many conversations happening at the same time. It was driving his own thoughts crazy.

He eventually found the teacher - a kind-looking woman with long, brunette hair and bright green eyes. She listened as Tweek fumbled over his words, trying to explain the situation while twisting his sleeves and his eyes darted around, landing anywhere but the woman's face. The woman simply smiled, chuckling quietly at the small boy. 

"It's alright. You can stay, if you'd like - you missed band camp, but there's always a spot in front ensemble. Go to the percussion room - Ill be there to help once I calm everyone down and take attendance."

She may as well have been speaking Latin to the poor, confused boy, but he followed her instructions to another room, with bigger lockers and much different instruments. These were much bigger, on wheels, but looked similar to a piano in layout. In the lockers were different drums, but one locker was open, the drum from inside missing. 

Tweek was questioning whether he was alone when he heard the undeniable voice that he used to know so well. 

"Tweek? Is that seriously you?"

Tweek jumped about three feet in the air, turning to face the speaker. His eyes met the ocean blue eyes of the one and only Craig Tucker. The name felt like acid in his thoughts after the lunchroom incident. 

"U-Uh, yes?" he said, feeling a bitter edge to his tone. He couldn't help it - how could he be _unrecognizable?_ Something about Craig's demeanor made him regret his bitterness. He actually looked confused. 

"I... Wow. I mean..." Craig rubbed the back of his head, seeming awkward. "It's been a while." he finally settled on the wording. 

More harsh words fronted in Tweek's mind, _who's fault was it? Who stopped replying to the messages? Who pretended I don't exist?_ On the outside, Tweek sighed, "Yeah. I uh... I tried to say hi at lunch. You ignored me.." he shrugged. He wanted to act like it didn't bother him. 

Craig shrugged in response, "I didn't think it was you," he replied, "I mean, you look the same, but... You'd just been gone for so long..." he shrugged, sliding the weird drum away from him - Tweek thought it looked like a weird cell that had split off into four parts.

When Craig started to approach Tweek, he automatically tensed. What was he going to do?! He could punch him, or-or he could have a knife! What if he was going to kill him?! This was all _so much pressure_ , Tweek didn't know what to do, backing away and tangling his hands into his hair. 

But Craig did the thing Tweek least expected. He slung his arm around his shoulders and pulled him into a tight side-hug (he knew how Tweek felt about full-on body contact). 

"Welcome back, dude. You're in for a hell of a ride in this school."

_Well,_ Tweek thought, _he took the words right out of my mouth._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> apologies for the delay I had a couple of job interviews and it pushed this away. Also sorry for the long chapter title - it's one of my favorite Meat Loaf songs. Hope this is okay!


	5. Bright Side

Craig and Tweek didn't get to talk long before the teacher came in. Her name was Ms. Green, and her kind smile still lit up her face. _She's probably new to South Park_ , Tweek thought, _most people that stay here long enough lose their kind edge._

She pulled Tweek away from Craig to show him the different instruments, saying each of their names and using a different mallet to hit a note and show him how it sounded. Tweek wasn't exactly following, but he made a point to try and remember them. Xylophone, bells, marimba, vibraphone... There were more, but Tweek particularly liked the sound of the marimba. There was something so gentle about it...

Ms. Green had finished up, looking to Tweek once again. "If you could stay after school, I could get you started on learning... Oh, but I have a meeting today..." she thought for a moment, then brightened, "Craig! Could you stay after to help Tweek? You were one of the best on front before you switched to drumline!" she said. 

Craig just shrugged, "Whatever. I don't mind." he said, nonchalant as ever. Tweek thought it was an endearing feature. He was excited, though - maybe he and Craig could be friends again? 

He decided not to hope too much. After all, he had a lot of questions - why had he stopped texting him? The way Craig acted didn't make Tweek _unwanted_ , but it was still weird. 

The bell rang, though, and Ms. Green excused herself, telling Craig she was counting on him. 

Then, they were alone again, and Craig was the first to break the silence. 

"It's been way too long, Tweek... I know I kinda dropped off the face of the Earth to you.." he said, rubbing the back of his head. He looked at the floor, a look of guilt crossing his features. Tweek wanted to retaliate, but before he could, Craig continued. 

"I broke my phone in a fight with Ruby. It sounds really stupid, I know, and that's why I never got a chance to get your number back... I didn't come to your house to ask because... Well, you wouldn't believe me, let's be real." he muttered the last part. 

Tweek had his doubts. That did sound kinda... Made up, but he didn't know if that was just his paranoia trying to seep into his brain or not. He decided to give him a free pass this time with a small smile. 

"I-It's fine, Craig... I believe you." he said. The silence that enveloped the room was more awkward than before, so Tweek cleared his throat. 

"I.. Uh, I-I like how the marimba thing sounds..." he stuttered, glancing at the keyboard. Craig rose a brow, doubt in his eyes, "Uh, that's one of the harder ones... For the more skilled people, but if you like it, I mean..." he shrugged and moved towards it. 

An hour passed, and Craig had been impressed that Tweek could do simple songs already. After showing him how to hold the mallets and the proper technique, it was like it was no problem for the small blonde. Tweek was just happy he knew the basic layout for a piano - it helped immensely. 

They decided to end the mini-lesson when Tweek could successfully play through Hot Cross Buns without difficulty. On the way out, Craig stopped Tweek, pulling out his phone. 

"Since, well... I guess we're okay and cool, could I have your number again?" he asked, a small smile shining through his normally stony face. The smile was enough to sell Tweek, and he took out his own phone and exchanged numbers with Craig, going his separate way to go to the coffee shop. 

He was feeling better about this year already - things could only go up from here, right? He was trying to look on the bright side, anyways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the delay. I hope people ars still interested. Ive just had a hell of an adjustment recently. Thank you for sticking around, those who are still here. The chapter is short, but I really did try!


	6. Self-Inflicted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has pretty graphic depictions of self-harm. Stay safe!

A month went by, Tweek and Craig becoming closer as the days passed. They were starting to hang out again, starting to become closer again. Craig hadn't changed much - he got a new guinea pig when Stripe inevitably passed on, and named his new one Stripe Jr..

Tweek had changed in more ways than one since he started talking to Craig again. Even his mother noticed - he was happier. Instead of spending nights alone, Craig would stay up and text him. He never let slip how much it meant, but Tweek thought it meant the world that someone would stay up and talk to him all night - even if it was about nonsense. 

He never talked about anything serious with Craig. He didn't want to. If a serious topic came up, he would act like he had fallen asleep. He didn't want to talk about how thin he was, he didn't want to talk about how little sleep he got, the amount of coffee he drank, why he looked sad all the time. 

He just wanted to forget all of that. He didn't want to talk. Craig didn't need to know. 

One night, the serious topics came up. He decided it was time to "fall asleep", tossing his phone to the side. He was sure it'd be easier to address these topics and move on, but... He just couldn't. 

Then, he was alone. 

Tired, hazel eyes stared at the previously blank wall - though now, through the small blond's eyes, there were dark figures dancing about, scurrying left and right like spiders. He had tried multiple times to ignore the figures, but he failed as more had joined, the hellish chorus in his mind joining the figures.  
_Fucking worthless_  
Insane  
You're crazy  
No one will ever love a freak like you

It was quickly getting out of control in his jumbled mind and his hands, which had previously been shaking with the rest of his body, found their way into the tangled mess of hair. Tweek yanked as hard as he could, trying to feel the sting from the physical pain instead of the emotional wounds that were searing red-hot in his mind. 

After a couple of handfuls of hair, Tweek realized that it was a fruitless effort. Keeping his gaze locked on the figures, he eased his way to his dresser drawer where the only option he had left lay. 

He opened the dresser with shaky hands, his hands searching until he found the handle of the boxcutter, then quickly he stumbled back to the safety of his bed. He slid the sleeve of his shirt up, then finally tore his eyes away from the figures in the wall to look at his arm. 

The skin of his arm had transformed from the pale, clean slate it had once been - so long ago, it seemed. Now, it was a rainbow of red, pink, and white marks. Both arms and legs were in such a state that he was glad that sweaters weren't a weird fashion choice in the town of South Park. 

His eyes drifted to the blade he held in his opposite hand, his thoughts racing. He was about to set the weapon down, trying to feel even an _ounce_ of courage, but when his eyes found their way back to the bare arm, he almost screamed. 

The small, spider-like figures were scurrying about his arm, leaving shadow trails behind them. He could swear they were under his skin, and he wanted - **needed** \- them out! 

Hesitation gone, Tweek pressed the sharp blade into his arm and pressed down, yanking it across his small forearm. He could have _sworn_ the thing had borrowed into him. He could FEEL it! He continued his destructive rampage, tears falling. Not from pain, no - from fear. What if he couldn't get it out?! What if it burrowed into him and lived in him?! This was all WAY too much pressure! 

After about an hour, he finally calmed down, feeling the shadows dissipate, the voices quiet. He felt a wave of relief wash over him, only to quickly be replaced with a sickening nausea when he looked at the damage he had caused. 

He hadn't thought of the blood involved, hadn't thought of the dull pain that came after, hadn't thought of --

Holy shit, why was that one so big? 

The panic slapped him in the face as he stared at the large wound, steadily pumping blood. Holy shit, holy _shit!_ This couldn't be happening! His chest was in a vice grip, squeezing the breath out of him. He couldn't breathe, the shaking breaths quickly spiraled into hyperventilating. He couldn't breathe - no breathing meant he could die!

He slid out of his room, not being too cautious as he knew his parents were asleep, and went to the bathroom, locking the door. He felt his breaths come in short spurts, his chest squeezing. This was horrible, bad, ugly - every negative adjective Tweek could think of ran through his head as he grabbed the first aid kit. 

He fumbled for a bit with the box, all too aware of the crimson steadily running down his arm and staining all he touched. 

It took a while, but Tweek slowly cleaned up his arm, taking his time to search and make sure that.... _Thing_ was gone. The one he was scared of wasn't going to stop bleeding anytime soon, so he used butterfly bandages (he'd bought them for emergencies - and this was a huge emergency) and wrapped crisp, white gauze around it. 

Once that was finished, he cleaned up the bathroom, then his room. He decided the blood on his sheets could wait till morning, and he slid under the covers. 

And he slept, feeling fine. Not happy, upset, fearful - but fine. Content, even if he knew it was completely temporary. He'd wake up, he knew, and he'd have to drag himself to school, even if he could barely move his arm. He didn't care, though - this was normal to Tweek.

And Craig could never know. Could never figure out about all the self-inflicted wounds on him. Never see the shame he hid away. 

Never know how fucking crazy he was.


	7. 2 AM

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, sorry this update took a while. I got really sick and all I could do was go to work, then come home and sleep /: I'll be more active now. Thanks for following this story! <3

Tweek wasn't sure exactly what happened the couple of weeks after the... _incident_. It was more of a blur to him. He just went by a daily routine: go to school, go to work, go home, text Craig, **r e l a p s e** , attempt to sleep, fail miserably, repeat. 

Craig noticed. He tried to pry anything out of Tweek - if he had eaten, how much sleep he got, if he was okay. Anything. He just got forced smiles and nods. Craig wasn't stupid. He knew something was wrong. He was determined to know what. So, he formulated a plan. 

He asked Tweek to stay after band one day. Said that he wanted to help him with his mallet technique (which was a complete lie. Tweek had great technique). Tweek agreed, and Craig held back a smile. He'd be suspicious then. 

When Tweek walked into the percussion room, he glanced around for Craig. He figured he may be early, so he started to the marimba to get ready, only to jump and spin around when the door closed behind him. Every possibility shot through his head - a murderer, an alien, a kidnapper coming to capture him, or--

Craig Tucker. Asshole. 

"Craig?! Did you really have to scare me like that?" Tweek said, obviously pissed as he ran his hands into his hair. He was convinced he was going to die! 

Craig didn't respond, instead taking two chairs from the corner and setting them down, facing each other. He sat in one and motioned to the other. Tweek sat, a questioning look on his face. 

"Craig? Wh-What's going on?" he asked, concerned. 

Craig was thinking, his mind coming up with multiple sentences, but none of them sounding correct. He finally took a breath, looking up at Tweek. 

"What's going on, dude? You never _talk_ to me about anything..." he said quietly. "I mean, I know I'm not entitled or anything, but... I tell you everything... I guess it just sucks that you don't... Trust me?" he tried. 

Tweek's stomach and chest felt cold. Panic started to settle in. "T-Trust? I don't..." he hesitated, standing. "I-I have to go." he said quickly, starting to the door in hurried steps. 

Craig let out a noise of frustration, standing. "Tweek! Just fucking talk to me for two seconds!" he said, grabbing the blond's arm roughly. 

Tweek hissed, pushing Craig away as hard as he could in retaliation, surprising Craig enough to make him stumble over the chair and fall to the ground. Tweek stared for a moment before grabbing his bag and rushing out. Craig called after him, but sighed, swearing under his breath. He shouldn't have cornered Tweek like that - he should've know he'd get nervous. 

He texted him later, apologizing, trying to start a conversation, anything to make Tweek just... _talk_ to him. Even if all he said was _fuck you Tucker_.

Nothing. 

It was his own fault, he knew, but he still wanted to know what was wrong. He was just too damn worried! 

He wasn't at school the next day, either. Craig was thinking this was ridiculous - did he scare him THAT much?

He forgot about the incident that night, fast asleep until he heard the generic ringtone of his phone. It was almost 3 AM - who would be calling?

He looked at the startlingly bright screen. Tweek, of course (who else would be up this late?). He grunted and ignored the call, turning back over. He probably accidentally dialed him. 

The second time it rang, he decided to pick up, curious. "Hello?" he muttered, voice thick with sleep. 

"Cr-Craig?" a familiar, shaky voice came through, "I-It's Tweek... I'm outside. Can I please come in?"

Craig was silent, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. "...yeah," he murmured finally, "through the window." he said, reaching to unlock the latch. 

Craig decided that this was new - then, rechecking the time, figured that this couldn't be good. Nothing good ever happens past 2 AM.


	8. Ode To Sleep

The first thing Craig noticed was the absolute raw _panic_ on Tweek's face.  His skin was pure white, his hands shaking, breathing labored. His hazel eyes were wide, darting around nervously, like someone was after him. 

The second thing Craig noticed was bright red staining Tweek's otherwise grey sweater. It scared Craig - what did Tweek do?! 

He figured he needed to calm him down first. He sat Tweek down, setting his Red Racer blanket around his shoulders and pulling him close. He knew Tweek didn't like skin contact when he was like this, but he liked to be close to someone. Craig knew this - and Tweek knew he was the only one who could calm him down when he was like this. That's why he came to him. 

Once Tweek's trembling had lessened and his breathing was somewhat normal, Craig decided to address the issue straight on. 

"What happened to your arm? It seems bad, whatever it is..."

Tweek didn't think about hiding it when he was going to Craig's. He was so panicked, he didn't realize--

Craig sighed, taking Tweek's wrist and pulling up the sleeve himself, despite Tweek's feeble attempts to pull back. He was too drained to put up a huge fight.

Craig's heart sank at the sight. Scars, bruises, cuts... And the one that was making the awful stain, still bleeding - too much blood. No wonder Tweek was so pale, he was surprised he even made it to his house! 

"Tweek..." Craig whispered, his voice betraying his emotions, though he didn't care at this point, "You need to go to the hospital, I... Can't really fix this." 

The word hospital seemed to reinvigorate Tweek, his head shaking immediately, "No! I can't go to the hospital! My parents will kill me!" he said, panic seeping into his voice. 

Craig didn't want to scare the kid more than he was, but he had to get through Tweek's head - "Would you rather be killed by this? Tweek, it's too deep to handle ourselves. I'll drive you, come on." Craig stood, going to his closet to throw on his jacket and a pair of jeans. Tweek sighed in resignation, following Craig as they crept down the stairs. He watched Craig scribble a note, then as if the thought just occurred to him, wrapped paper towels around Tweek's wound to try and subside some bleeding. Then, they were off. 

The car ride was awkward, to say the least. Tweek trembling, the paranoia and fear settling in. He _hated_ hospitals - and what if they called his parents?! 

Craig had questions, a lot of them, but he knew not to ask. Not now. He was feeling a lot of emotions - fear, sadness, guilt... He should have noticed! He sighed heavily, he had to ask at least one question. He'd go crazy if he didn't. 

"Is there anything I can do to help?" he murmured quietly, glancing over to the shaking blond. "I don't like to see you upset, and this sure as hell has to mean you're upset..."

Tweek stiffened, then looked at Craig. He looked back out of the window, "Craig, it's... I-It's nothing, I don't want you to worry about me.." he said quietly. He didn't _deserve_ anyone's concern - he was a waste of time.

Craig frowned, "Okay, Tweek. And you're not on the way to the hospital because you sliced yourself too deeply accidentally." he said pointedly. "I'm going to worry! This is serious!"

Tweek was silent again. He didn't want to argue, but he felt word vomit coming up, along with his bitterness. "Who said it was accidentally?" he hissed, glaring at Craig. "I don't _want_ attention, I don't want pity! This is just something I do! It helps me in some sick sort of way!" his hands were tangled in his hair, yanking hard. "Just let me deal with this! I'm not a baby! I can handle this!" he yelled as tears started to fall from his eyes. 

Craig, now parked in the parking lot of the hospital, wasn't sure what to do. He knew Tweek wasn't a kid, but... He'd never seen him lash out quite like this and it jolted him. 

"Tweek, I'm not pitying you... I don't think you want attention! I just want you to get some help," Craig said,  choosing his words carefully, "I just want you to calm down for a minute, and get this taken care of. We can talk later, okay?" Craig wrapped his arm around Tweek's shoulders, pulling him close. "One step at a time."

Tweek couldn't speak, so he just nodded. He didn't even understand why he had yelled at _Craig_ \- he hadn't done anything... What had he become? 

He had started to feel the effects of the blood loss halfway through the ride, but once he stood, he felt the dizziness take over, nearly falling over before Craig caught him. He felt himself get lifted off the ground, but his vision was fading at this point, and he gave up, closing his eyes and leaning against Craig. The last thought he had before blacking out was that Craig was much warmer than he was - an arbitrary thought, but one that relaxed him more than he wanted to admit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy belated Halloween everyone!


	9. Everything is Alright

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally got this chapter finished. Thanks for being patient everyone!!

Tweek hadn't been admitted. Craig had followed the nurses, making sure he was with Tweek for his stitches. He knew how much Tweek freaked at small things.  
  
Surprisingly, though, he was quite calm. He had to see a mental health worker, but was released a while later. His parents weren't contacted, seeing as he was legally an adult, age 18. When all was said and done, Craig helped him back to the car.  
  
They didn't speak for a long while, just sitting in the car. Craig was afraid to speak, fearing he'd set Tweek off again. Tweek was just... Tired. He wanted to sleep for once.  
  
Craig let out a quiet sigh, glancing over to Tweek and gently pulling him into a tight hug in place of words. The blond stiffened, but relaxed after a moment, gripping Craig's shirt. He wasn't sure what happened, but there were tears soaking through Craig's jacket, his shoulders shaking with sobs he wasn't aware he had been holding back.  
  
Craig sat in silence, rubbing small circles into his back. He didn't want to disturb the moment - he felt like Tweek needed this. He was more than happy to just sit with him. He already planned the excuse for not going to school that day - he would make sure Tweek wouldn't go either. He needed a day to rest.  
  
After a while, Tweek's tears quieted and he pulled back, eyes down, "S-Sorry... I..." he started, but was silenced by Craig's chuckle, "Don't worry... I don't mind, Tweekers. Let's go home. You can spend the night." he said, earning a smile from Tweek.  
  
Once they had returned, Craig let Tweek borrow a shirt to sleep in, keeping himself from staring at the white gauze wrapped around his wound. He started to gather some pillows for the ground, but heard Tweek quietly murmur that they could sleep in the same bed.  
  
"We did it when we were younger... D-Does it make that much difference?" he asked, biting his lip. Craig considered, then nodded, setting the pillows back on the bed. He let Tweek in first - he knew he liked to sleep against the wall. He had told Craig once that it made him feel safer with his back against the wall.  
  
Once Tweek was settled, Craig settled in beside him, facing the blond. He turned off the lamp, yawning. He had forgotten how late it was...  
  
He turned onto his side to face Tweek once again, smiling softly as he realized Tweek's eyes were already closed, his breathing already slowing. He knew he had to be _tired_ if he slept that easily.  
  
He knew it was creepy, but Craig couldn't help but study him as he slowly slipped into sleep. He never noticed the light freckles across his nose and cheeks - which, even he admitted, was just poor observation skills on his part. His eyes drifted to his arms, a mixture of sadness and guilt filling Craig. He had never noticed anything off about Tweek - well, there were _obvious_ things a little odd about him, but he never knew they were this bad...  
  
Maybe if he had made more of an effort to be there for him after he transferred schools, this could have been avoided. If he had just got off his ass and _visited_ he could have stopped him. If he had even noticed this earlier... The way Tweek dodged questions--  
  
His train of thought derailed as he noticed the tears dripping onto the pillow. He felt his cheeks in shock, trying to shake the feeling. He was Craig Tucker! He didn't _cry_!  
  
This was an exception, though. This was Tweek. He could have lost his best friend, and now that it was quiet and he could think about the heaviness of that - it hurt. He had an overwhelming urge to hold Tweek close - to apologize, to cry into him, to just hold him and tell him everything is alright. Even if the words weren't truths, he wanted them to be.  
  
He looked over Tweek again, then felt a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. What if what he was feeling was more than just concern for his friend? He wasn't gay, right? He didn't actually love Tweek in _that_ way...  
  
Right?


	10. I Just Do

Except, Craig realized the next morning, he _did_ love Tweek in that way. He couldn’t help it – he just did. He woke up to the blond snug against him, still completely worn out and snoring lightly. Craig didn’t dare to move – he couldn’t wake him up when he had been through hell that past night. He looked Tweek over, his cheeks lighting up with crimson as he came to the epiphany – he almost screamed.

Instead, he stared at his ceiling, having an internal panic. Was he gay? He didn’t seem to like any other guys – or girls, for that matter. He hadn’t really dated since… well, ever. He’d had one or two flings, but it had never been anything serious. He never felt like this about _anyone_. It was almost frightening to experience the emotion so suddenly. Had he always felt like this and just suppressed it? 

Craig decided he was overthinking it. So what if he liked Tweek in that way? He’d never reciprocate the feeling, and even if he did…

What if he did?

He sighed, sitting up slowly to not disturb Tweek, rubbing at his face. There were too many what-ifs, and none of them made him feel any better about this. He left the room, going through the house to make sure it was empty before going down to the kitchen to make them a sloppy breakfast. Eggs and toast for Tweek (since Craig remembered one night he had told him he didn’t eat meat) and a gourmet bowl of cereal for himself.

Once he had plated the food, he heard a small yawn behind him, turning to see Tweek rubbing his tired eyes behind him. He smiled a little at how cute the blond looked when he was still tired.

“Morning, Tweekers. I made some breakfast.” he said, offering him the plate. He took it with a small smile, “Thanks…” he said quietly, going to sit down.

They ate in silence, Craig washing the dishes after. They sat on the couch and watched TV after, occasionally glancing at each other and awkwardly meeting eyes. Craig almost couldn’t take it – it was too weird and awkward. 

He almost made a move to stand when Tweek gently grabbed his sleeve. “H-Hey, Craig… A-About last night…” he started, eyes down. “I-I’m sorry… I freaked out, a-and I didn’t know who else to come to… I know I was acting… weird.” he sighed, looking up at Craig.

Craig rubbed the back of his head, “Hey, don’t worry about it, dude. I’m glad you came to me…” he paused a moment, “don’t think that doesn’t mean that I’m going to forget about this, though.” he said sternly. “I don’t want something like this to happen again…”

Tweek bit his tongue, but nodded. “A-Alright…” he agreed, then leaned forward, wrapping his arms around Craig. “Th-Thank you… for being there for me. I-I know I’m not very agreeable…”

Craig’s faced ignited once again, pulling Tweek close. “Don’t thank me… I like being around you.” he said quietly, and maybe it was the moment, or the fact that he couldn’t handle his feelings being contained anymore, but he leaned down and pressed his lips gently to the top of his head. Tweek jumped at the contact, looking up at Craig with wide eyes.

Craig stood, “Sorry… I-I don’t know what came over me.” he said quickly, looking away. Tweek would think he was gross, or creepy, or—  
Tweek’s lips were pressed against his in the next instant, pulling away just as quickly. “I-I…” Tweek started, scratching at his hands, “Sorry! I-It’s just… Y-You…” he trailed off, looking down and covering his face with his hands.

Craig stared at him, trying to process what was happening. Instead of trying to figure it out and overthink it, he simply smiled.

“Hey, Tweek… wanna go out with me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas! Have a smooch c:


	11. Sleep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for self-harm and hallucinations. Had to put a liiiiittle more angst, sorry!  
> Happy New Years everyone!

As time passed, Tweek spent more and more time at Craig's house, rarely at his own. He still went to work, but he realized that the quiet made him more nervous. Craig helped him stay. He almost thought the urge to hurt himself would be gone -

He should have known better. Things don't disappear overnight, Tweek _knew_ that. He just didn't want to believe it. He wanted to be happy forever and not think about the bad! 

It was a particularly rough day at work. Making small mistakes added up to Tweek's anxieties. He went Craig's that night, trying to put on a smile. Craig knew him too well, though, and they took an early night. 

Craig was fast asleep in no time, but Tweek was wide awake, staring at the wall. He sighed, sitting up carefully to not wake his boyfriend, standing and stretching. He looked back to the wall, his eyes widening. 

The black creatures were crawling along again, slowly crawling down and making their way to Tweek. He made a noise of distress, forgoing any thought of being quiet as he ran to the bathroom, closing the door and locking it. _It's okay,_ he tried to think to himself, _they can't open doors!_  
He was starting to calm down a little, looking down at his arms. His chest felt like it was going to collapse, watching the black creatures wiggling under his skin. It sickened him, made his hands shake. They had to get out! 

Hyperventilating, he searched frantically before finding a shaving razor. He broke it open, slicing his shaky fingers, but he didn't feel anything. Only sheer desperation.   
He pressed the small blade to his arm, no hesitation as he sliced through, only wanting them _OUT!_

He didn't hear the door swing open, didn't hear Craig's frantic voice. He only felt a sense of dread as the blade was yanked from his hand. No, not yet! They were still in his skin! Tears fell down his cheeks, begging over and over for the blade back. 

Craig wasn't sure exactly what to do. He had seen Tweek's anxiety attacks, but they were nothing like this. He wasn't even sure if Tweek could remember his name in this state. He closed and re-locked the door, sitting on the floor and pulling the blond to him. He murmured quietly to him, playing with his mess of hair. Tweek sobbed into Craig's chest, scratching at his arm until Craig held his hand to stop him. He wrapped a washcloth around arm to slow the flow of blood, kissing the top of his head as he continued to murmur small reassurances. 

About an hour later, Tweek finally was coming back to his senses. The sobs dissipated into sniffles. Craig chanced a look at the damage, biting his lip. There weren't many, but the couple Tweek had made were deep - made worse by the scratching he had done. He could tell there was purpose behind them.   
Tweek finally spoke, his voice so shaky it was hard to tell what he was saying. "I-I-I'm so sorry, C-Craig, I... They were in me, and..." he trailed off, unable to keep going. Craig gently kissed his forehead, "Don't worry, Tweekers. We can talk later..." he said softly. Tweek nodded, watching as Craig threw away the razor, using another washcloth to clean up the floor. 

He stood, grabbing a first aid kit from the medicine cabinet. He sat in front of Tweek, gently cleaning and bandaging the wounds on his arm. He bandaged his fingers as well, putting a bandage on his own where the blade had nicked him. 

Tweek felt tears in his vision again, looking down. He was so pathetic, but he couldn't help it. No one had ever been so patient or ever helped him like this. Craig was worried he had done something wrong, looking at Tweek sadly. 

"D-Did I do something wrong? Please don't cry again, Tweekers..." he said quietly, gently taking his hand. Tweek shook his head, hugging Craig close. 

"No... Y-You're too perfect... That's all..." he murmured. Craig blinked, but smiled softly, picking Tweek up. He made sure everything was clean and put away before heading back to his room. He switched their clothes, leaving the blood-stained shirts beside the bed to deal with in the morning. 

He settled back in bed, wrapping his arms around Tweek and pulling him close. Tweek sniffed, starting to murmur an apology before Craig shook his head.   
"Don't worry right now... Just sleep, Sweetie... We can talk tomorrow..." he kissed the top of his head. 

Tweek closed his eyes and nodded. For the first time since the hospital visit, he slept soundly. Before drifting to unconsciousness, he had one last thought:

He really loved Craig.


	12. Hard to Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a little short - but I'm slowly getting back into writing again. This trip has messed me up a little, haha, but nothing I can't handle! Thank you for your comments - they're truly what keeps me writing!

Tweek, Craig decided, was hard to love.

He constantly had something wrong. If it wasn’t his head telling him there were things crawling all over him, it was something at the coffee shop, or someone at school, or just being overall _sad_.

There were times Craig were reduced to tears trying to help Tweek. He would never let him see, though. That would only hurt him. There were days that Tweek would be all over Craig, wanting to watch TV, or just do anything with his boyfriend. Craig liked those days – those days he knew that Tweek felt good (or at the very least, okay). Then, there were days where Tweek wouldn’t even look at him. When Craig tried to talk to him, he’d just give simple answers and mutter. Days he’d switch and scream at him for nothing, then just break down. Those were the bad days – the days that Craig had to keep an eye on him.

He knew that Tweek had a lot of anxiety and paranoia – especially about their relationship. They’d been dating now for three months, and Tweek practically lived with him at this point. The only time he really went home was to get clothes. There were more nights than not that Tweek would be up, asking Craig why he chose him, why he wanted to be with him of all people. No amount of reassuring could help him when he was like that, but Craig tried his best.

Because he did love Tweek – and he was hard to love, and Craig never realized how hard it was until now.

But, Craig decided, even if he was hard to love, he’d want him no other way.

Tweek was a perfect person, made up of imperfections.

**~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

Craig, Tweek decided, was most likely better off without him.

Craig was a very stoic person around others, but when they were alone, he was a whole different person. Tweek wasn’t sure what it was, but he loved both versions of Craig. He realized, though, that he himself had two different versions, and neither were good.

His paranoia made his skin crawl, made venomous words spit towards the person he loved. He never meant it – he never wanted to hurt anyone. Sometimes his mouth got too far ahead of him. Craig deserved much better – a prettier person, someone that was stable. Someone who didn’t hurt themselves selfishly.

Tweek had tried to act happy for Craig, but he knew how to read Tweek like an open book. He tried to hide his wrists, but Craig knew where to look, now. Tweek hated it. He didn’t want anyone’s pity, didn’t want to disappoint anyone. 

But, Craig didn’t make him feel like that. He made him feel like it was just a mistake – that it would be okay.

So, Craig may be better off without Tweek, but that was okay.

Because he had chosen Tweek – and he would never know how much that meant to Tweek.


	13. Prove Me Wrong

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: suicide attempt.  
> I'm sorry this took me so long. I fell back into some unhealthy habits. I'm trying to pull myself out of my own rut.  
> Thank you everyone who still loves this fic - I will be happy if even one person likes this story anymore <3

Despite what Tweek thought, he graduated. He was one of the best in band, and with Craig by his side, no one dared mess with the kid. Craig didn't even think it was possible for Tweek to graduate - but he spent many nights staying up with him, helping him with homework or simply helping him battle everything that his brain threw at him. 

Once they were free from the school, they had a long discussion about the future. Obviously, Craig wasn't going anywhere - Tweek _was_ part of his future, after all.

Tweek felt loved, but he also felt like he was holding Craig back. He knew Craig wanted to go to college - and he knew he was smart enough to get into a good school, somewhere away from the hell they called South Park. he didn't want to say it to Craig, but he was better off without him holding him back.

These were the thoughts passing through his mind one night. He was sitting with his back against the wall, watching Craig play a video game on his computer, talking with others. His head throbbed, the poisonous words echoing throughout his mind. 

_"He'd be much better off with someone else. If he goes to college, he'll find someone much better. They'll there, too... not holding him back. You just cause problems anyways. Nothing is worse than a clingy boyfriend, after all."_

He felt the tears only after they had fallen. He didn't want Craig to see him cry yet again, so he wiped his face and stood, grabbing his jacket. He tapped Craig's shoulder gently to get is attention, "Hey, I'm going for a walk. I'll be back." he said softly. 

Craig nodded, thinking nothing of it. Tweek often took walks at weird intervals of the night. It was just a thing he did. The first couple of times, Craig tried to talk him out of it, but he realized it was just something his boyfriend needed. 

"Be safe, Tweekers." he said with a smile. 

Tweek nodded, making his way out of the house. The cold nipped at his face, but he ignored it, walking to Starks Pond. He kicked a small pebble on the ground as he walked, trying to distract his mind from waging war on itself. Anything he could get his mind to focus on, he would. The Marsh’s house had been repainted… There was a new resident moved in next to Cartman… Butters was still awake…

He sat down on the bench that was in front of the pond when he finally reached his destination. Even at night, the water on the surface sparkled – only a thin sheen of ice on top. He stared at the surface, thinking of the memories he had at this pond. He felt a small smile form, his lower lip wobbling as he felt the tears falling again. He thought of when he was younger and he was too afraid to go on the ice. He was convinced he’d fall and the ice skate would slice clean through him!

It had been Craig that had urged him to come out. At first, Tweek vehemently rejected the proposal. Craig had simply shrugged, sitting beside him and telling him he wouldn’t go until he did. After a bit of persuasion, Tweek had been swayed and skated. Craig had helped him – he wouldn’t let him fall. It was one of the best days of Tweek’s life.

He pulled his knees to his chest, muffling the sob that tore from his throat with his jeans. This was stupid – Craig didn’t really think that much of him. He shouldn’t be sobbing like this. He couldn’t help it. All he could think about was how _wrong_ he was for holding Craig back, how much better his life would be without him – how much better _everyone’s_ lives would be.

His mother and father never really cared much for him, anyways – he was just another employee. Craig’s parents HAD to be sick of him always being over there, and Craig could finally go to college. He could finally meet someone who was mentally stable.

Then, a thought hit Tweek that made his breath catch. He’d been asked many times if he believed in love. He had always the same – of course he believed in love. He felt it every time he was near Craig, he felt it when he got those late night texts from him. He felt it even in a cup of fresh coffee.

He believed in love, but he now realized he didn’t believe love was for him.

He stared at the ponds surface again, drying his tears as he went over to the edge of the water, taking a deep breath. He felt like it was the only thing to do. This would make everyone happier.

He took out his phone, clicking one of the only contacts on there. He sent Craig one final text, biting his lip.

**_im sorry im such a burden to you. youre free to go now, okay? meet someone fun at college and forget about me. love you._ **

He stared at the text before he sent it, then tossed the phone aside, closing his eyes. He wasn’t sure what would take him first – the water, or the cold. He didn’t much care.

He would be gone either way.

**~*~*~*~*~*~**

Craig looked at his phone as it lit up with a new message, sitting up. He smiled when he saw the name, but his blood ran cold when he read the message.  
He swore loudly, throwing off the headphones he wore, his game long forgotten. He threw on his jacket and shoes, grabbing his phone as he ran out of his house. He tried to call, walking along the streets and looking around frantically.

He felt absolutely _stupid_. Why didn’t he make sure Tweek was okay before letting him leave?! He clenched his fists in frustration, throwing his phone to the ground after the third call. It was pointless to keep calling.

His called his name as he looked around, panic settling in his stomach. He was about to pass by the pond, but gasped when he spotted the blond, running over. He had already blacked out, but Craig grabbed him, yanking him out of the water. He was so _cold_ and Craig looked around, then let out a relieved cry, reaching and taking Tweek’s phone from the snow, quickly calling an ambulance. He held Tweek close to him, feeling the sobs shake his frame. Tweek’s lips were a pale blue, his body stiff. He felt the panic settle in again, making sure his boyfriend was still breathing. To Craig’s relief, there were small, shallow breaths. 

When the ambulance showed up and took Tweek, Craig refused to leave his side. He stayed in the ambulance, though he couldn’t do anything but watch.

He felt hopeless. He felt _useless_. He felt like this was his fault somehow.

He didn’t want to lose him.


	14. Don't Speak

Craig didn't leave the hospital. The nurses told him to go get rest, but he couldn't. He couldn't when Tweek was like this.

The doctors had said that he hadn't been under long, but the cold had taken hold of him more than water inhalation. He had woken up a couple of times, but he was so out of it he just fell back to sleep.

Craig felt bitterness run through him when he realized Tweek’s parents hadn’t even visited. He even looked at through Tweek’s phone, texting his father to tell him everything. He had only gotten a single text back:

**thanks. Will find a replacement for his shift.**

Craig felt disgusted, and he felt a strange sense of loneliness, sitting alone in the hospital room with Tweek.

Was this how his boyfriend felt?

Before he could think about it anymore, Tweek groaned in the bed, finally sitting up slowly. He looked at the blankets piled on himself, then to Craig with wide eyes.

"It... I'm... Don't be mad...." he whispered, eyes clouding with tears. Craig shook his head quickly, hugging him tightly.

"Tweek, what were you thinking?!” he snapped, tears of his own spilling over. He couldn’t put into words the joy that he felt at Tweek’s voice.

Tweek didn’t say anything for a moment, not moving to hug him back. He gently pushed Craig off, not looking at him. Craig frowned, “Tweekers? What’s wrong?” he asked, worried.

Tweek was silent for a moment, then looked at him, “I don’t want to be with you anymore.” He said flatly, his voice devoid of any emotion.

Craig stared at him, frowning again, “Tweek, stop playing around. It’s not funny to joke around at a time like this—“

“I’m not joking,” Tweek interrupted, looking at him, “I don’t want to be with you anymore.”

Craig just stared for a moment, then looked away, shaking his head as his brain scrambled, trying to think of what to say. “Fine, Tweek. If that’s what you really want, fine. We’re not together. Happy?” he asked, looking down as he tossed Tweek’s phone onto the bed. “Do you want me to leave, too?” he muttered.

Tweek glanced at him, then away. “Yeah. I want to be alone.” he muttered, leaning his head back. His brain was screaming at him, telling him he was an idiot, to take back all of what he said.

But he didn’t.

Craig nodded, “Okay. I’ll see you…” he said, giving a half-hearted wave before walking out of the room.

He waited until he was back home, locked in his room before he sat against his door, sobbing into his arm. He didn’t know what to do – he felt like he should have stayed, but he couldn’t handle it. He couldn’t handle how dead Tweek’s voice sounded, how he looked like he genuinely didn’t want to see Craig.

He knew Tweek needed someone, he knew he needed help – but he was tired, too. He never wanted to abandon Tweek, but it was wearing down on Craig. It hurt that he couldn’t ever help his boyfriend – well, his EX-boyfriend.

After a long while, Craig finally stood, going to his computer. He glanced at his forgotten mail that sat on his desk, picking up one of his college acceptance letters.

He figured if Tweek didn’t want him around, he may as well start somewhere else.

He felt like he lost his best friend. He felt like he’d lost everything – but he had the option to build himself back up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know -- this is late. It's also a very short, very shitty ending. I apologize for that. I'm trying to renew my nursing license so I can get a better job and on top of that, I dropped my phone that had this full chapter into my bathtub so! I had to restart...  
> I decided to take a more... bad ending approach. Sorry about that! I already have plans for the sequel! I'm going to write a couple of chapters before I publish anything though.  
> Thank you to EVERYONE that has commented, left kudos, or even just LOOKED at this work. I was very discouraged to begin with, but everyone was so supportive and nice... It made me want to write more!  
> Stay tuned for the sequel -- I hope this is an alright ending c:


End file.
